


Avec Toi, Je Suis Moi

by Kroissant



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Dirty Dancing, Dorks in Love, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Humor, Love Confessions, Male-Female Friendship, Masturbation, Multichapter, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Sexual Tension, Slow Dancing, Strip Tease, Stripping, Unrequited Crush, Vaginal Fingering, annette in a dancer outfit, confession of love, everything starts and ends in a dream, felix already in love with annette, first attempt to write smut fanfic, masturbating felix, sex with feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2020-10-19 12:55:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20657609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kroissant/pseuds/Kroissant
Summary: "Excited, are we?"Felix grunted, his face burning crimson. "You're making it too difficult..."It was true.She smelled intoxicating—her revealing dress, her big, blue eyes, and wicked smile—she was begging to get devoured. Well, no matter. Because one way or another, he was going to taint her, make her beg, moan  his name, and finally claim her as his.Or, in which two dorks suppress their hidden feelings for each other, became an item and experience their first times together





	1. Plus je te vois, plus je t'aime

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KayMoon24](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KayMoon24/gifts).
**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Kroissant.
> 
> Now, this is a fanfic I've been wanting to write for some time now, heavily inspired by the one and only Kaymoon24--check out her works! It's to die for!--and to show her my gratitude for contributing to our small felannie community, I decided to gift her with this multichapter masterpiece (hopefully four chapters at most). 
> 
> Aside from her, I've been wanting to experiment on smut for some time now, and thanks to a dream--once I say that I have a dream, you bet I'm going to write it down for you all!--and thus, this is going to be a tad different. But don't worry, there's plenty of fluff to go around.
> 
> As for the french, it's been a tiny headcanon of mine that Felix and Annette have French in their blood--look at their names!--and so, I decided to incorporate it.
> 
> The choice of song for this chapter is--You and Me by LifeHouse
> 
> ***Warning: be sure to have a bottle of water and/or a fan--you are going to be sweating a lot ***
> 
> That's all for now!  
Can't wait to see you guys in the ending notes!
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

Moonlight poured from the darkened, cloudy skies.

Cleansed by the beauty of the soft, rays, a female dancer pirouetted in the empty platform of the training grounds, gracefully leaping and waving her arms like the wings of a bird.

With eyes closed and lips in a fixed-line, she glided her body in formation, gently swaying in motion as she allowed the beat of the melody playing in her head to overtake her.

Each time she shimmied, her arms lifted high above her head, the glimmering flickers of silver and gold radiated from her stark white garb—along with the additional streaks of bright, cerulean blue accentuated from the long ribbons tied on each of her wrists, the trimmings of her partially-opened dress, to the lower portions of her physique, fastened with a strap embellished with more lavish trinkets of charms, and decorative ornaments.

Beads of sweat streamed along with the starkness of her fair shoulders and thighs, the small speckles of tiny blots peppering her smooth, shiny skin like confetti.

Tightening the grip of her sword equipped in her right hand, the dancer shoved the tilt of the weapon on the ground and seductively glided her body, deep in concentration as she performed a risky dip.

Humming a low tune, the dancer seductively shoved her pelvis at it, slithering her body along the sharp blade while gently swaying in motion.

Gently, she placed a hand on her already exposed thigh, and running her long fingers lightly on the skin, ascended up to her rocking waist, to her chest, lingering there for a few brief seconds, her breathing growing uneven, visibly shivering as she let her hands travel a bit further on her visible collarbone to her prominent, attractive features—her rosy cheeks, her small button nose, her wide forehead, and glossy, cherry lips.

Curls of her bright, marmalade hair spilled freely along her freckled shoulders came into light, and so did the swirling emotions embedded in her baby, blue eyes—emotions swirling fathom deep, yet carried a sense of warmth and life from within.

At the eyes of the beholder, she was starlight incarnate.

To close her serenade, she does a light curtsy and a bow of her head.

Reclaiming the sword from the ground and bringing it close to her heaving chest, sweat rolling down her flustered cheeks to her chin, Annette regains her composure and manages to melt into a smile. Peering over her shoulder, she spots _him_ hidden in the darkness, her captive. Despite the great distance between them, she calls out his name and offers him her outstretched hand to take.

Approaching him, in her light, velvety tone of voice, Annette spoke softly and slowly in his direction—

* * *

Felix shot his eyes wide open.

Jolting upright, he brought a hand to nurse his throbbing forehead. He was covered in sweat, feeling hot, heavy, and out of breath. Slowly, the dark-haired man turned his head to the right. He narrowed his eyes, taking a moment to survey the familiar environment of his room.

Relieved to know it was all a dream, he fell back to the embrace of his mattress, his exposed chest rising up and down. Raking a hand through his long, silky black hair, Felix crinkled his nose as he looked up to face the ceiling above him, placing his arm over his across his forehead and groaned.

That was the fifth time he had the same dream—of Annette executing a sword dance exclusively for him.

Felix clicked his tongue.

Since she was reclassed as a dancing unit—and wearing that provocative attire in the battlefield—he couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from her. Her singing and her voice was one thing, but now…

Felix shut his eyes, refusing to finish that chain of thought.

“Damn it…” He murmured as underneath his sheets; a surge of sweltering warmth was beginning to burn in his groins. Hoping to resist the temptation, he took another deep breath in, and then another.

…It wasn’t working.

Cracking one eye open, and then the other, Felix looked to the ceiling again.

By then, his entire mind was swarmed with more images of the same woman from his lewd fantasies—one of bright, fiery hair and eyes as blue as the deep sea, donning in an elegant snow-white robe, a sword at hand, and a dazzling smile that could pierce through anything…

Still staring at the ceiling, Felix swallowed hard and let his hand roam under the blanket, traveling into the depths to do away with the issue. The moment he touched the throbbing bulb, he let out a low hiss, his back arching a little forward and curling his other hand into a whitened fist, though careful not to make a sound in fear he might get caught.

Soaked in sweat and drowning in lust, Felix instinctively closed his eyes, and once more, allowed his mind to be filled with her.

“…Annette,” He moaned her name, and drawing a sharp breath, gently stroked the bulge covered by the thin material of his black boxers and plunged deeper into pleasure. “Annette…”

He rocked his hips, breathing hard and rapid as he stroked it, and as he carried on, let her name roll out from his tongue again and again like a broken record, his movements growing faster, and stronger, the more he thought of dear, sweet Annette—of her enjoying the simple pleasantries of life: munching on a slightly baked toast of bread she burned for breakfast, participating in the choir in the cathedral, watering the plants, singing while cleaning up the library, and just being her gosh darn self—her bright smiles, her laughter enriched with a hiccup or snort to follow after, cheering her friends on with her positive energy, and then of her decimating the battleground with the ancient relic, Crusher, settled on her shoulders, dirt and dry blood smeared on her face, and dress, her head held high with confidence, owning the ground as if it was made for her—

A wave of pleasure swept through Felix and he stroked a bit faster, gulping a lungful of air.

Her voice was ringing loudly in his head as if she were here, and holding his breath, Felix squinted his eyes and moved his head to face the wall where next to him was an empty space.

There, he imagined what it would be like to be with her, together and alone, both naked and staring at one another, the same foreign feeling churning in his stomach crashing over them. They would be smacking their lips, tongues twisting, hands trying to unbutton and unzip the other’s clothing while attempting to control themselves from the desire of wanting to touch the other—

Felix hissed again, throwing his head back as he dared to take the next step by thrusting his hand inside his boxers and squeezing his erected shaft.

The feeling was too addicting, the sensation of ecstasy and the desire to feel his body against hers, and her light touches, her kisses peppering his skin, and a slight hum coming from her lips.

The temperature in the room was intensifying, scorching hot but he didn’t care.

Everything around Felix was becoming a blur and yet, that didn’t stop him as more images of her flooded his brain, fueling his lust and need to keep going, stroking faster and faster—

“Annette,”

Her voice, her smiles, her laughter, everything about her—he wanted her all to himself and claim her as his.

“Annette,”

What would her moans sound like?

How soft to the touch would her skin be if he tried to gently caress it?

Would she be alright with him spoiling her with such pleasure, to be the one responsible for her mind-breaking and her notorious moans echoing and bouncing around the room, or hold her close as they end their mating dance with a finishing climax, their perspiring bodies squeezed together, and catch stars as they descended back on earth, to the bed they would claim as their own?

In a split second, his brain electrified.

Felix arched his back as his mind went momentarily blank, gritting his teeth as he fought back the urge to cry out _her _name out loud.

Collapsing back on the mattress, Felix breathed heavily, slowly removing his hand from the sheets. With half-lidded eyes, he stared blankly at his hand, shining sticky and wet, coated in his cum of slime.

A minute or so passed and he was back to his usual self, his breathing returning to its natural state.

Though the pleasure had waned, Felix recalled the same dream which led to such moment—of Annette mindlessly dancing in her revealing outfit, hypnotic and spellbinding.

She was beautiful in every way, so graceful and untouchable but she deserved better.

As he leisurely sat up to take the box of tissue from his bedside table to discard the slime off of him, Felix frowned deeply.

He was a shadow who lives in the dark, hands stained with blood—a mad wolf waiting to devour the next soul coming his way.

Annette was pure and positive like the sun—a beauty in plain sight, waiting for someone worthy of her hand and whisk her away to her happily ever after, as what it should always be as written in those pointless stories Ingrid reads in her spare time.

After cleaning off the rest of the cum and throwing the balls of tissues in the trash nearby, Felix released a low sigh, dropping back to lay down on his bed, retrieving his blanket and draping it over his body, alone and feeling a bit cold.

From the corner of his eye, he observed the vacant space on his left.

He slid his hand from under the pillow and settled it down, and closing his eyes, allowed his imagination to run its course, visualizing what it would be like if _she_ were here—probably yawning and rubbing her eyes, teasing him to no end and then, sinking her head to the same pillow, murmur a few voiceless words under her breath and then falling fast-asleep within seconds.

Such a thought made Felix smile a little.

He would lean a bit closer, wrapping her arm over her waist and letting his hands settle on the back of her hip, and making sure not to wake her, would press their foreheads together and inhale the mix of her scent and sweat. Felix wondered how she might respond, maybe a sigh or a loud snore. But no matter what she might say in return, he would simply smile and peck her on the nose, stare at her adorable, sleepy face until the drowsiness takes over him, and he too would join her…

"Goodnight," His words slurred, his eyes growing heavy as he succumbed to his sleep. "My...sunshine,"

* * *

Five years ago, when Felix used to be a student, never once did he felt sexually attracted to anyone, not even to their Professor of the opposite sex who instantly became popular among the student body. He was aware of her tight-fitting clothes and the lack of armor that came along with it but then again, who wouldn’t?

It was a ridiculous-looking getup, one he distasted and it didn't seem to help when most of the men from the Blue Lions, Dimitri and Sylvain especially, viewed her on a pedestal, their eyes wandering off to check on her breastplate, tights, and whatnot in the middle of lectures.

Luckily, Felix never fancied her aside from her exceptional skill with the sword.

Even those whom his childhood friend Sylvain claimed to have his sights on—the Professor leading the Black Eagles: Madam Manuela, the ever so patient Mercedes, the flirtatious Dorothea—clearly, the three women were out of their league, especially to the young skirt-chaser, but other than that, none of them seemed to spark something in him at all.

Enter Annette.

Her singing, smiles, and laughter piqued his interest right away.

Compared to the women Dimitri and Sylvain had their eyes on, for Felix, it was simple and plain to see. A

Annette came from a noble family, the niece of the well-esteemed Lord Dominic serving as a minor feudal lord in the Kingdom of Faerghus.

She excelled well with magic, had a strong affinity for reason, and was free-spirited, friendly, and optimistic, a polar opposite to him.

On par with her excellent scores on exams, Annette was a firecracker in the battlefield, and Felix reminded fondly of how they were constantly paired together to work as a team—with her supporting him and granting him a boost of strength, and him efficiently eliminating their enemies within seconds.

Deep down, Felix had a thing for her…not exactly in a physical way, unlike a certain philanderer, but rather, was won over by her overall character—her hyperactive energy, hardworking mindset and influential cheer—to the point of how even her flaws: her absurd knack for exploding the kitchen on duty or how klutzy she would be, tripping over herself, turned into definite factors, adding to her charm.

Just when he thought she couldn’t get any better, five years later—his view of her changed.

The second Felix laid eyes on her, that was it for him.

In the years since they were separated from the others and each other, the young girl magically evolved into a woman—mature, gorgeous, and stunning.

From head to toe, she looked like a painting who was brought to life.

Her scent was even different—from apple cinnamon to rose petals.

The two, pretzel-like ringlets were no more, replaced with that of long, and flowing tresses, free of form and free of restrictions. Brilliant orange and beige cream perfectly complementing the winks of blue on her new attire—it suited her hourglass physique wonderfully.

Hell, she didn’t seem to realize the many eyes ogling on her—particularly Sylvain, and Ashe, who would find themselves checking her out from afar, blushing hard or making excuses to tag along with her, quite similarly to how the boar prince would be acting to their young Professor.

Knowing that irked Felix, more so than when he failed to exterminate the final boss from their previous mission. Felix valued her safety—reminding himself over and over how idiotic the men viewed her as, sexually objectifying her rather than seeing her truly for who she was.

And yet, Felix still couldn't seem to take his eyes off of her—to the point of how much he had lost count to the many times he would lose his guard in the middle of battle or bump his head into a random pillar during one of his outings whenever she was within his range of sight.

As much as Felix wanted to get close the distance between them, he knew he couldn’t. And yet, he was haunted by her, her voice would resurface, and the silly songs permanently etched in his memory would pollute his mind, driving him mad and insane.

In battle, consuming his meals, taking showers, or even sleeping—her voice would resurface, haunt him in his wake, and it was only after he lost another loved one at Gronder Field—that he came to realize how little time he must have left in the world, and to surround himself with the longtime friends he came to perceive as his second family, and how much he wanted to express his secret infatuation to Annette.

Her recent change in class—becoming the party’s main dancer and his lustful fantasies of her intensifying each night—to resist the temptation to touch her, and be with her, would prove to be a challenge for him to overcome.

If only he knew, how the feelings he buried and kept hidden away, have long been answered by the lips of his muse…

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bet you didn't see that one coming, eh?
> 
> The name of this chapter -- Plus je te vois, plus je t’aime means the more I see you, the more I love you -- cute, huh?
> 
> The chapters would be updated every weekend -- the second chapter would be publishing hopefully later tonight, or tomorrow night to compensate.
> 
> And to let you guys be prepared for the next chapter, it's wholesome fluff--don't worry, no water bottles or fans this time (I'll be sure to warn you all if it happens again)
> 
> And just letting you guys know, as a result of this first chapter, I just happened to recruit Felix and Annette (Ingrid and Mercedes shortly after) simultaneously into my GD route and now, I can't stop thinking of them having a sexual tension.
> 
> If you can, feel free to send comments/kudos! I'm eager to hear and read what you all think of this new experiment!
> 
> As for the requests on Twitter, I am currently in the works of drafting them -- possibly next week, they would be posted -- to those who have done so (and if any of you are interested in dropping a request for me to write in the future, my twitter account is @Kroissant4, it'll be a raffle (every single request will be written eventually) and would be credited to the one who proposed the idea! Can't wait to see more requests in the future!
> 
> Oh and be sure to visit Kaymoon24's profile and read her works to support her!
> 
> I believe that's all for now!  
Thank you so much for reading!  
Hope you all have a wonderful day!


	2. C’est lui que mon coeur a choisi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! This is Kroissant!
> 
> I would like to take a moment to say thank you for reading my first smut chapter! Don't worry, there will be more to come! Now, here is an even better chapter--I hope you enjoy it! (and I made sure to lengthen the narrative even more)
> 
> As for the French, I believe it would come later in the future chapters.
> 
> Okay, let's go on ahead!

* * *

“…Mercie?”

Hearing her nickname, the short-haired woman lowered the teacup in her hand and placed it on the small, ceramic saucer with care. Shifting her attention to her oldest friend sitting across from her on the table, she straightens her posture, collecting her hands together and setting them on her lap as she naturally slipped into the role of a big sister, ready to console and share her wisdom. “Yes, Annie?” She spoke up, calm and soothing. Noticing the light shade of crimson spreading on her cheeks, Mercedes puts on a warm smile. “Is there something troubling you?”

She watches the latter tip her head quietly. "Why don't we discuss it?" She advised, “You know you can talk about anything with me,”

Again, Annette nodded. “…Okay,” She began, sounding a bit more confident to verbalize what she needed to say. “This…is going to sound a bit strange but—uh…”

Mercedes leans a bit closer. “Yes, I’m listening,” And takes the other’s hand, squeezing it gently to let the younger woman know she was here to provide care and support.

Thanks to that, Annette loosened the tension on her shoulders. She took a deep breath.

“How do you know…if—uh…” She stopped to nibble her lower lip, and in a hushed voice, murmured the next few words to herself.

Mercedes tips her head to the side, her eyebrows furrowed. “Can you repeat that last part?” She asked, still smiling, “A bit louder please, if you don't mind,”

Annette blushed. “Err, sure…” She fell into silence for another minute and then— “I think…I got bitten by the lovebug,”

“Love…bug?” Mercedes repeated, her eyes slowly widening. She couldn’t help but widen her grin. “Oh my! Annie is finally growing up, I see,”

Taking a small, green-dyed macaroon out from the basket of sweets, Mercedes peered up to face her oldest friend once more and asked in a lighthearted tone, “So, how did this come about?”

Annette turned away, the scarlet gracing her cheeks growing more prominent as the silence lingered on. “I don’t know, it just happened really,” She said quickly, refusing to look at Mercedes in the eye.

Mercedes smiled. "That's understandable," She replied and took her first bite of the cookie. "Love doesn't need a reason," While munching away, she snuck a glance at the latter and erupted into another burst of chuckles. "Would you like to share the name who stole your heart?”

Annette blushed madly. “…If I did, you’d probably laugh,”

“Why on earth would I do that?” Mercedes wondered, munching away. After consuming the small cookie, she takes a glimpse at the leftovers. Thinking it over, she reaches out to take another, and another, and—

“Mercie? What are you doing?”

Looking up, the older woman flashed her a smile. With her other hand, she seizes a napkin from the pile and places it at the center of the center. Making sure the thin paper was smoothed out, she carried on with her plan by inserting the five macaroons in her possession—dark blue, brown, red, light blue, and teal green.

“Maybe this might help,” Rubbing the bits of crumbs off her hands, she presents the latter with her latest creation. “Let’s play a little game,”

Annette raised an eyebrow. “A game?”

“Indeed,” Mercedes confirms with a pleasant smile. “Pick a color. Any will do,”

Again, Annette gave her a weird look. “Could you at least tell me what’s this all about—” She watched the older woman shook her head, traced a slender finger across her lips to ‘zip’ it closed, then jerked her chin to the cookies on the table.

Shifting her focus, Annette frowned. She nervously rubbed the side of her right arm, gave Mercedes another glance, and reverted to the cookies. What could this all mean?

“Pick which one speaks to you,” Mercedes points out, reclaiming her teacup to take a quick sip. “And then I’ll explain,”

Annette sighed in defeat. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Mercie,” She mumbled, and stretched her hand out, letting it hover over the five cookies for a few brief seconds. And as she instinctively grabbed for the light blue one, she failed to capture the growing, mischievous smile on the latter’s lips, “I trust that you know where you are going along with this,”

“Oh, I’m sure you won’t be disappointed,” Mercedes assured her friend, and as she placed her teacup back on the ceramic saucer, leaned back on her chair and said, “If anything, I should be thanking you,”

“…Me?”

Mercedes nodded, unable to suppress her grin. “For giving me the answer to my question,”

Again, Annette shot her friend a weird look. She couldn’t put a finger on what she was trying to imply.

She glanced at the four remaining cookies on the napkin, to the light blue one in her custody, and then to her oldest friend who simply stared back at with a carefree grin. Annette pondered over the thought, trying to dissect the purpose of this little game of hers and what it could correspond to. Looking back on the cookies one more time, it didn’t occur to her until now how the colors Mercedes specifically picked for her to choose seemed rather familiar, almost as if they were meant to refer to—wait.

Oh, no.

“MERCIE!” Annette suddenly cried, her face turning different shades of red.

Mercedes covered her mouth again, her light chuckle muffled from the pressure of her hand. “I knew you’d caught on!” She praised her, clapping her hands.

Annette puffed her cheeks. “You tricked me!”

“I know, and I apologize,” Mercedes said, bowing her head a little. “But knowing you, the guessing game would have gone on forever. Like, that one time when we were studying in the library. You already had the answer to one of the questions, and when I inquired your assistance, you told me to guess,” Recalling the memory of their time as students, all she could do was shake her head, her large earrings gently swaying from side to side. “We were up for hours, and almost got late to class because of that,”

A smile materialized as the image of her and a younger version of Annette entered the den of the Blue Lions, sleep-deprived, their hair slightly ruffled for having accidentally slept in during their studying, and of course, the large bags under their eyes.

Luckily, they were given a pass by the young Professor for their tardiness though for compensation, agreed to be assigned to do group tasks in the stables later that Friday.

Mercedes grinned as she fixed her sights on the blushing redhead and the light blue macaroon. “So, the man who stole your heart is—”

Annette lifts her hand, stopping the latter from revealing the identity. A string of voiceless words escaped from her lips before looking the other way, and despite partially viewing the right side of her face, Mercedes spotted her tense shoulders and how she was gripping a little too late on the light blue macaroon resting on her palms.

She was frightened.

Mercedes opened her mouth to say something, only to close it again and sighed.

This must be the first time she ever heard of Annette utter the word ‘love’ before.

When they used to be students, she remembered when chatting away with the other girls, guessing each other’s school crushes. Five years later and they’ve grown and matured, and so did their mindset on romance.

Truth be told, Mercedes understood what the poor woman was going through.

Inside, she too held a secret infatuation toward someone in their house—a man who had recently gone through so much—and knowing how unlikely it was for it to be reciprocated…

Mercedes drew out a long sigh. Still, she wore the lovely smile she was known for, and casting her empty teacup to the side, propped her elbows on the surface of the wooden table. “When are you planning to tell _him_ of your feelings?”

Annette chewed her bottom lip. “I don’t know, really,” She admitted, taking a strand of her hair and twirling it around with her finger. “I wanted to believe that we still have some time left but…”

She pauses for a moment to veer her eyes to her feet, her lips fixed in a straight line as she recalled the brave soldiers and former classmates whom sadly passed on—the unforeseen death of Rodrigue Fraldarius, the prestige shield of the late King Lambert, and then Emilie the Death Knight, who was revealed to be Mercedes’s long lost brother.

Hundreds of lost souls and innocent blood have splattered on the battlefield, and on a few occasions, she, Mercedes, and the rest of the Blue Lions were ones held accountable.

In a few more weeks, they would be stepping on the enemy ground—home to the Adrestian Empire, where Edelgard would be waiting for them.

The end was near, and yet, there were still so many things Annette wanted to do and see, and most of all, proclaim her feelings to the man she held dear.

Death was imminent, and any moment now, anything and everything they ever held dear—and quite possibly dreaming of what they wish to do in the aftermath, could be taken away from them by the snap of a finger.

As if Mercedes heard her thoughts, she spoke up, prompting the latter to face her once more. “You may never know what might happen or could happen,” She stresses, with a linger of urgency traced in her voice. “Do what you can with the time we have left to be with _him_,” As she said those words, her eyes went downcast, her hand sliding over to the golden pendant she was given by her late brother.

“Even if it’s too difficult to get the word across or for him to listen, you should at least let _him_ know,” She said softly, closing her eyes shut to visualize a broad back—covered in large layers of fur and long, blue cape fluttering in the wind—belonging to the man whom she secretly admired from afar, but could never reach nor close the distance between them…and by then, it was already too late as his heart was claimed by another. Facing her oldest friend once more, Mercedes cracks a bittersweet smile and said in a whisper, "You should seize the moment before it's too late,"

Listening intently, Annette lowered her gaze to the light blue macaroon she held. A certain swordsman slipped into her mind. Her big, blue eyes darkened as a whirlwind of mixed emotions overflowed her.

“Seize the moment, huh?”

* * *

In the training grounds, an intense display of sparring was in session.

One by one, the soldiers of Seiros came fast-approaching, their wooden swords were drawn out as they charged in on the lone swordsman. As the first one lunged at him, Felix swiftly moved out of the way and swung his blade, successfully landing a hit.

Whirling his head, he raised his sword, blocking another assault and in retaliation, threw a counterattack. Afterward, he thrust an elbow against their chest, followed by a punch directly in their face.

With his sword at hand, Felix shoved other incoming soldiers and jumped back.

Landing gracefully on the cemented platform, his amber eyes studied three of the soldiers left standing. His facial features clenched in concentration.

Bringing his hand out, Felix gestured them to come over, taunting them. He flashes a razor smirk as they caught on to his act and sprinted forth.

Again, Felix settled with his battle stance, cool and composed.

Once one of the soldiers stepped over the boundary line, something in him triggered. A bright glow emanated to light the way for him, and upon recognizing the familiar symbol of his family crest—the Crest of Fraldarius—he forced his legs to run faster, evading the powerful slashes coming his way.

Grabbing another random sword from the ground with his other hand, Felix lunged at the three soldiers and released a loud battle cry. "Hurrah!" And in a matter of seconds, launched a flurry of swift blows.

Shouts of anguish intensified, and soon after, came to a close.

Wiping the drop of sweat from his chin, Felix released an exasperated sigh. Sheathing his blade in its scabbard, he cracked a small smile, silently marveling at the dogpile comprised of his unconscious opponents. Satisfied, he trotted to the sidelines where he was greeted by three of his regular spectators.

"Impressive as always," Sylvain comments, tossing a wet cloth in his direction.

Felix emits a low grunt, claiming hold of the item.

“So, who’s next on the list?’ Sylvain wonders, motioning his head to look at the female knight sitting next to him with a journal at hand.

“That would be me and Dimitri,” Ingrid announces, shutting the book quite harshly before the redhead could take a peek at the contents. “I’ll fetch him for practice,”

Without a word, Ingrid rose from the steps of the small staircase and headed straight to the wooden crate to choose her desired weapon.

All Sylvain could do was shake his head in dismay, emitted a sheepish smile as he scratched the back of his neck.

“There she goes,” He utters lowly, and then switched his attention to his right, in time to watch the dark-haired man seating himself on the steps, naturally ensuring that there was an appropriate amount of space separating them.

While Ingrid was busy making preparations for her sparring with the prince, Sylvain looked back to check on Felix who seemed preoccupied wiping the rest of the dirt and sweat off his face. Grinning, he moved a few inches closer toward him.

“What do you want, Sylvain?” Felix grumbled, catching the redhead off-guard.

To his dismay, Sylvain gave him an earnest grin. “What? Can’t talk to my best friend in the world?” He teased, nudging the latter on the shoulder.

Felix shoots him a glare. “We were never best friends,”

Sylvain shrugs. “If you say so,” And casually places his arms behind his head, leaning back and sighs heavily. “I’m bored,”

Felix snorts. “Save your breath and practice,” Setting the cloth on his right knee, he looks up to find a circular flask hanging idly above his head. Sighing, he wordlessly took the item and uncoiling the screw top, brings it close to his lips and starts chugging a few, big gulps.

“Did you have fun last night?”

Felix spits out the contents.

Coughing brashly, he clutches the right side of his chest.

Sylvain remained in place, grinning away like a fool as he observed his childhood friend reduced his coughing and turned to look elsewhere, possibly to avoid eye contact.

“…Don’t know what you’re talking about,” He murmured, cold and distant.

Ever so stealthily, Sylvain scooted a bit closer—far too much for Felix’s comfort—and proceeded to lock his arm on the back of his neck. “Oh, I do,” He goes on, wiggling his eyebrows as he shook the younger man. “And I bet you do too,”

Felix squirmed uncomfortably from his hold, still gazing away and refusing to look at him dead in the eye.

Because he knew, oh he knew—that this was exactly what Sylvain wanted out of him: a reaction. For the time being, Felix needed to stay firm and silent, with no sputtering of words. Sylvain knew how to push his buttons and there was no way in hell he was going to fall victim into the sort of mess he was brewing.

“So, Annette, huh?” Sylvain began, smiling in amusement as he noticed the latter become rigid the second _her_ name came out from his mouth. Seeing this, he suppressed the urge to laugh. At last, he had found his new source of entertainment.

“Sort of makes sense, I suppose,” He went on, nudging his friend again. “Quite the looker, too,”

No response.

“She’s grown a lot, completely floored me the first time I saw her,” Sylvain whistles, recalling the memory of their house reunion. “Strong, beautiful, and a smoking body? Who wouldn’t have the hots for her?”

Still, no response.

Sylvain frowned. And then a thought came to him.

“Man, did you see her ass—”

That was it, the trigger point.

Felix hastily rose from his seat, breaking free of Sylvain’s grip on him to unsheathe his sword. The dark, brooding aura enveloped him, and with narrowed eyes, aimed the sharp tip of his blade directly close to the redhead’s neck.

Finally, it happened—he got a reaction out of the swordsman, but not in a way he was expecting.

Sylvain gulped, knowing full well he had gone too far—and now here he was, confronting death.

"Easy there, Felix," He said, keeping his voice low and collected. His eyes were fixed on the dangerous steel inching closer and closer to him. Easing his uneven breathing, the paladin slowly recoiled away. His back pressed further against the cemented edge of the small staircase he was sitting on, while frantically lifting his hands in defense. "It was a jest, I swear,"

Felix didn’t buy it. “One more word out of you, and I’ll cut your damn throat,” He fumed, clearly peeved.

“Woah, wait! What about our promise?” Sylvain reminded him, noticing right away how the latter's death grip on his weapon had faltered for a few seconds upon hearing a certain term. "You know, the one where we vowed to die together on the same day?”

“…What of it?”

Sylvain beams. Yes, there’s still hope for him!

“I know it was rash of me to make fun of your feelings and—”

Felix leered at him.

“How about I strike you a deal? I made fun of you, so you go on ahead and do the same to me!” His usual, alto voice—smooth and suave, was pitched a bit higher than usual. He was rambling off, yet he didn’t care. Damn it, his life was on the line!

“What in Goddess’s name is going on here?”

Both men stopped what they were doing and averted their sights to the direction of where the voice was coming from.

“Ingrid!” Sylvain exclaimed, thrilled to see the female knight returned, along with the prince and his noble retainer trekking not too far behind her. Steering away from the tip of Felix’s sword, the redhead bounced back on his feet and ran to greet her. “My oldest friend! Am so glad you’ve returned—”

“Save it, Sylvain,” Ingrid interrupts, swatting away his hand before he could let it touch her shoulder blade. Setting her hands on her hips, she shook her head in frustration. “Honestly! I leave for five minutes and you two are already causing a disturbance!”

There was silence.

Felix points a finger at Sylvain. “He started it,” And enclosed his sword back in its scabbard, choosing to ignore the redhead's jaw-dropping as he was thrown under the bus.

Ingrid rolled her eyes. Of course, it was Sylvain. She moved her head to face her older childhood friend. “What did you do?”

“It’s nothing,” Sylvain shrugged off, scratching the back of his head. He took a few steps forward before halting to stand in front of the swordsman. When Felix gave him a wary glance, he sighed. “Sorry about what I said earlier, alright?” He began, bowing his head. “Look, if it makes you feel better, I jerk all the time,”

“Sylvain!” Dimitri cried, blushing. From a distance, he spotted a few figures, notably some of the soldiers in the background observing them in curiosity. “Lower your volume! People might hear you!”

Sylvain scoffed. “What are you talking about? If anything, you should know better than anyone about taking the art of pleasuring yourself a teensy-weensy bit too far,” He points out, wriggling his eyebrows mischievously, “Am I right, Your Highness?”

Dedue gave a side glance at Dimitri who was already burrowing his face with his hands in embarrassment. “…Milord?”

Despite Ingrid and Felix’s constant warnings—intense glaring and pinching his arm harshly, the acclaimed philanderer refused to back down. If he was to meet an early death, might as well spill everything, right?

“Have any of you ever notice how strange Dimitri’s bed looks each time we pay a visit? Like, I don’t know…how it looks different almost every month?”

The second he delivered those words, Dimitri let out an overbearing groan—enough to catch the attention of the knights entering through the large doors to the training grounds. “Sylvain, I swear by Seiros’ name…” He didn’t get to finish his sentence as the man himself had already done it—exposing his darkest, kept secret.

"He kept breaking it not only because of his monstrous strength but also trying to feel himself up over Prof—"

“SYLVAIN!”

Dedue naturally slipped to the side, collecting his hands behind his back as he dipped his head, a light trace of blush adorning his cheeks as a result of accidentally eavesdropping in on the group’s ‘adult-related’ topic.

“What is wrong with you?” Ingrid barked at him, blushing furiously as she had her ears covered by her hands. “Have you no shame?”

"We did not need to know that, you idiot," Felix seethed, nursing his aching temple.

Dimitri, on the other hand, was pale as a ghost.

Aware of this, Sylvain paid no heed to expose more secrets out in the open. "Hey, if it makes you feel better, why don’t I tell you one of my secrets?”

Felix sighed heavily. “Sylvain, stop—”

Too late.

“The eleventh day of Guardian Moon,” Sylvain went on, placing a hand close to his chest with a prideful expression, “Location set in the second-floor dormitories. Approximately one o’clock A.M. on the dot. Had the most invigorating reverie of beautiful Dorothea and—”

“Stop it, we get it!” Ingrid called out, covering her ears.

“It was so real, so amazing, I—”

“We get it, you had a lewd dream and got a turn on,” Felix simply said with a straight face, though the blistering, redness on the tips of his ears proved otherwise.

Sylvain glimpsed at him and laughed. “Yeah, but here’s the best part!” Rubbing his hands together, he pumped them into the air and cried, “I had the best climax ever!”

A long, awkward silence followed.

“Wait a minute, that was _you_?” Ingrid cried all of a sudden, taken aback. “You were the one screaming in the middle of the night?”

Sylvain smiled earnestly.

Ingrid turns to glance at Felix and Dimitri who both turned away, clearing their throats and rubbing the backs of their neck. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”

A long pause.

“You both knew, didn’t you?”

They slowly nodded.

Ingrid’s face fell. She turns to look at Sylvain who was already throwing his head back in laughter.

“Of course they knew!" Sylvain confirms to her with a strangely, proud-looking smile—one in which she wanted so badly to throw a punch. “We tell each other almost everything,”

“This is not something to be proud of!” Ingrid lashed out, elbowing him in the gut. “You caused such a commotion that night! We all thought a Demonic Beast got on campus and wreaked havoc!” She was burning red, and yet, she was still not done whipping some sense into him. “You made poor Marianne cry!”

“Ouch, ouch! I give, Ingrid!” Sylvain cries out, on his knees and wrapping an arm to where she had injured him.

Regardless of the disgusted looks, he was getting from his friends (and the pain throbbing in his lower abdomen), the redhead retained his dumb grin. Chuckling lowly, he slowly got up to his feet.

Crossing his arms, he closes his eyes and started to reminisce of the dream he had five years ago. Man, how could he ever forget that night? To this day, it was crystal clear—of Dorothea seducing him into bed with her, dominating him and rewarding him with one of the best sexual experiences he ever had throughout his nineteen-year-old life.

…But there was no way he'll admit how that certain dream was what made him aware of his hidden infatuation for the songstress. Dreams—as illogical and bizarre as they might be, possess incredible meaning. And for Sylvain, it opened his eyes, letting him become aware how Dorothea was the person whom he wanted to be with the most, and how determined he was to survive through the war and possibly win her heart, no matter how long it may take to win her over—months, years; it was a challenge he was willing to take.

It wasn't a coincidence either of how Sylvain made it his duty to crack on Felix's strange behavior over the past few months. It took a while but he had found his answer thanks to last night—with Dimitri completely passed out in his room for having to attend so many conferences in one day—his ears instantly picked up the sound of the wail, and how quickly he ran outside of his dorms and pressed his ears against the wooden surface of the door, hearing the name of Annette being constantly repeated over and over again like a prayer.

Ahem—besides that last part, at least, Sylvain could finally push the lovestruck swordsman in the right direction, and he would do what he can, even if it meant sacrificing his honor and dignity to help him fully understand his conflicted feelings.

It did work well with Dimitri—who, five years later, still had the hots for their Professor. And now look at him, ready to end the war and wed with the woman of his dreams, both figurately and literally.

Removing his hands and placing them on his hips, he set his gaze to his childhood friends—

Sylvain furrowed his eyebrows. “Hey, where’d Felix go?”

“He left a while ago,” Ingrid tells him, folding her arms as she gave him a long, cold stare. “So did Dedue,”

Sylvain frowned. “Probably should’ve given him spare condoms in case something does happen,” He mutters to himself, then shrugs. “Next time, I guess,”

Looking back at his two oldest friends, he was surprised to find lances already equipped in their hands. How long had he’d been daydreaming?

“Hey, what have you got there, fellas?” Sylvain wondered innocently. “Oh, right. You two are planning to practice, right?”

A ferocious crack startled him.

Alarmed by this, Sylvain slowly glances over to the prince who stared back at him with an unreadable expression. Next to him was Ingrid, giving him a frosty look.

There was an excessive rage in the depths of their eyes. Sylvain let out a forceful laugh. "Come on guys, take it easy!" He cries, retreating. "At least let me grab a weapon before you start—"

He bolted.

Hot on his trail, the prince and the female knight, armed and ready, sprinted after the shrieking blob of red and steel.

* * *

Annette stopped in her tracks. “What was that?” She took a moment to examine her surroundings. When nothing came up, she brushed it off and continued her way inside the Knights’ Hall.

Lately, she had been visiting the place in substitute for her usual visits to the Dining Halls and the Reception Room. As odd as it may be, she simply adored it—there was a collection of books on the far end to her right, ladders and staircases that would help her climb up to fetch one, a couch to sit down, with the addition of the fireplace being her personal favorite.

But today, her purpose here wasn’t to relax nor bury her nose inside a book.

Taking Mercedes’s advice to heart, Annette made it her priority to start rehearsing her confession to _him_. Aside from the training grounds, this place came close second as it happened to store a few sets of dummies lying around for her to practice her trial run.

Striding forward, Annette took a few minutes to inspect one of the wooden dummies until eventually settling with one donning full armor—perfect and ideal for her as she would be able to get a look at her reflection and highlight any mistakes in her facial expressions and body language.

“Okay, you can do this Annie,” She encourages herself, and lightly slapping her rosy cheeks, smiles brightly, sprinting into action. Peering up to look at the empty helmet, she inhaled a deep breath.

“Would you like to hang out sometime? I know a great spot to have some tea—”

Whoa, whoa, backtrack. Does he even enjoy such an outing?

“Let’s fight and see who can make it out alive!”

Too extreme, and too Caspar-like.

“I think I have the hots for you,”

\--Whoops, way too informal.

“I-uh…" Annette trails off and then sighed. She let her eyes travel to the armor where she was greeted by her own, miserable-looking reflection. “This isn’t working, isn’t it?” She smiled nervously, shoulder sagging as she blew off some of the leftover strands of her hair flopping on her wide forehead.

Regaining her composure, Annette lowers her head to look at the open palms of her hands. The light blue macaroon had been long gone (consuming it on her way here) and in its place was nothing.

There was nothing to inspire nor rile her up to do anything. She loathed that feeling—the feeling of hopelessness, despair, and lack of drive. Then again, this was partially her fault.

Since her exchange with Mercedes, Annette felt sort of pressured to tell him everything right away. And now that she had spared some time away from her daily chores and postponed her meeting with Professor Byleth, it seems in the end, the results were futile as ever.

To pass the time, she pondered over her next step—should she try to search for him? Or maybe wait it out and do this again some other time?

Annette bit her lower lip.

…No.

In a few more weeks, the Blue Lions and their militia would embark on enemy territory—the final battle was upon them.

By then, the sea of farewells, sworn oaths and agreements to reunite again after the war would have been sealed and established. Time was running out for every single one of them, and while most looked forward to going back home and be with family, or resign their duties to a more, stable and tranquil life…there was her, fretting over whether she should own up to her feelings and spend her possibly last, remaining weeks with the one too far for her to reach.

It was heart-breaking.

And now that she thought about it, was it possible he already had somebody in mind?

Annette frowned, remembering how she would happen to stumble upon him with various other women—sharing treats with Lysithea, visit the greenhouse with Bernadetta, get dragged to the Dining Hall by Dorothea, and accepting the sparring practices Leonie would invite him to.

There were many women already acquainted with him, and each one of them were perfect and beautiful in their way—there was Lysithea who was brilliant but has a sweet side to her, the shy recluse Bernadetta with the hidden talents of sewing and fabricating stories out of whim, Dorothea and her natural charms (and her background as a former opera songstress to boot), and Leonie with her tomboyish character.

…And what did Annette have?

Unlike Lysithea, she made mistakes. A boat ton of them.

Unlike Bernadetta, she didn’t have a knack for arts and crafts.

Unlike Dorothea, she didn’t have confidence, nor the sex appeal.

Unlike Leonie, she wasn’t practical nor could bring herself to conserve money.

Annette had nothing to show—all she had really, were cleaning and her stupid silly tunes. She had the touch of a monster, exploding even the pots and pans in the kitchen without even trying. And don’t get started with her compulsive behavior when it came to cleaning. Her hair wasn’t naturally curly, nor was it fitting when it came to battle. More importantly, she lacked stamina, not exactly having a good physique to run and about.

Annette held her breath, wrapping her arms around herself. Suddenly, it became difficult to breathe.

Listing all the things off the top of her head made her realize just how utterly pathetic, and sad she was.

Separate her from Mercedes, whisk her away from her Uncle and Mother, let her estranged father abandon her, strip the crest—the only thing that granted her a title as a noble, and she had nothing.

Books and her silly songs were all she had.

And to think that if _he_ had the choice to pick someone to be his partner, his lover, the one to give birth to his children, and possibly spend the rest of his life with…it wasn’t her.

And it would never be her.

Annette blinked her glossy tears, and when she dared to breathe or say something, a low wail came out…and tears started flowing down her rosy cheeks, her heart aching, breaking into pieces.

Cowering into a ball, she buries her face deeper into her lap, eyes closed shut and curling her hands into fists, presses them closer to her chest as she found it more difficult, more severe to keep breathing. For a moment, the silence was overrun with her constant sniffling and soundless sobbing, and then…

**“Wild hair…dark eyes…”** She sang softly, “**You can see through my disguise…”**

The empty void within the room gradually lifted, and ever little by little, she managed to gain a bit more strength, more vivacity.

**“Quick and cool, like a flash of light…”** She sang, slightly swaying, **“As cold as the hollow night,”**

The feelings she wanted to express so desperately, caged up inside of her and refusing to see the light had flown out from her mouth in the form of a lament.

**“So here I am, here to say…how each day, you make it all okay,”**

Clutching tightly to the last bit of hope she had left in her—she recalled of the images in the back of her head—of _his _rare smiles, and light laughter, his handsome features and porcelain skin drowning in the glow of the sun and moon, his thirst for tougher trials, preference for spicy and meaty cuisines, his fondness for the felines roaming in Garreg Mach, how overly compassionate he was to protect everyone in spite of the harshness of his words, and that adorable little thing he would do with his hair, raking bits of it whenever he was stuck in an awkward situation and didn’t know what else to do–he was a man full of heart and loyal to the very end.

Everything about him, including his flaws, Annette dearly loved so much.

**“I only wish…that you knew…” **She hiccupped, **"How my heart beats for you…"**

Again, she became swept with more visuals, and this time, he wasn’t alone. He was with someone…and it wasn’t her. He would be there, his gaze softened at the one whom he chose to be with, let his arm snake around their waist and pull them close, and cupping their chin, would ignite millions of fireworks by one simple kiss.

And she would be there, away and staring off at the fairytale he would create on his own. She would choose to smile, to put on a brave face, and congratulate him as what a teammate should do…right?

**“At the bottom of my heart…” **She inhales another deep breath, but this time, as she prepares to open her mouth, the words faded under her breath. It wasn’t coming out of her. Confused, she forces herself to do it again.

And again.

Again.

More tears coursed down her cheeks, to her chin, to her feet, and on the hay-filled ground. Yet, another thing was taken from her—her voice, and her silly songs.

“**I truly love you,” **She wanted to say, and when the words couldn’t come out of her, she drank more gulps of air and tried to repeat herself. “I love you, Felix…I love you…”

Nothing.

“I love you, Felix….I love you…”

Her mouth was moving, but the words weren’t there.

Picking herself up, she sluggishly maneuvered to the couch and seated herself a bit closer to the edge. Planting her head on the side of the arm, she stared blankly at the flickering flames in the fireplace.

Silence prolonged, giving her time to contemplate on what she should do next.

…Maybe it’s for the best…that she didn’t tell him at all.

Because she knew, even if she recovered her voice and got the courage to tell him, it would only lead to absolute heartbreak.

And Annette couldn't risk it, not when she already lost so much—her father to Dimitri, her Uncle, and mother to the Adrestian Empire…and if he were to be next, then…

“My heart chose you…” She mouthed softly into the fire, and slowly, closed her eyes from the cruelty of the world. **“Did your heart chose me?”**

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can someone show me where I can throw myself into the flames of hell for making Annette cry? No? Alright, I might as well do myself then!
> 
> The name of this chapter is called -- He's the one my heart chose (a reference to Annette's feelings for Felix)
> 
> May I just say how the last scene was seriously unplanned!!! It was supposed to be Annette being happy and cheerful, adorably trying to confess to Felix...but a demon called angst came barging in and granted me with the delicious idea to cause havoc...and thus, this happens. (I have no regrets whatsoever)
> 
> As for the childhood friends scene, it became one of my favorite things to write--a complete 180 degree to what the chapter offers.
> 
> I'm excited to know of your thoughts regarding this--and the pure sweet angst (did anybody caught on to the tag that says 'angst and fluff and smut'? No? Just me? Okay...
> 
> Oh and thank you for those who left kudos and comments! (For the comments, I would be leaving responses later at night due to my busy schedule)
> 
> Once again, be sure to visit Kaymoon24's profile and read her works to support her!
> 
> I believe that's all for now!  
Thank you so much for reading!  
Hope you all have a wonderful day!


	3. Je suis fou de toi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a long time coming.
> 
> At long last, I finally updated!
> 
> Looking back, my writing has drastically changed so please bear with me!
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

The Knights Hall was a place Felix would frequently visit.

Since the death of his father, he’ll find himself heading straight there almost every single day, sit down on the couch and reflect on his past actions and mistakes. It was a remote space, secluded and disjointed from the rest, close to the graveyard site, and perfect to spend some alone time.

Leaving the training grounds (and Sylvain to his two furious childhood friend), he goes there.

And as he enters through the open entrance, finds the last person he least expects to see.

Ever so quietly, he makes his way over to the couch where the sleeping beauty laid, blissfully at peace. Crouching to his knees, Felix reaches his gloved right hand to gently trace his sole finger along her rosy right cheek. There were tear stains—hardly noticeable, but visibly clear.

Had she been crying?

“Who did this to you?” He whispers, too soft for her to hear.

Felix creases his brows, taking a good look around. There was nobody except for the two of them. He shifts his eyes to Annette, and simply stares at her. The prickly sparks coming from the built-in fireplace ward off the looming silence, and Felix lets it be that way.

As he stares longingly at Annette, worried thoughts begin to plague his mind.

How long was she here?

Felix lets his eyes trail off to the other side of the couch where her teal ballet-like shoes barely touch the edge of the armrest. Instinctively, he puts a hand on the hilt of his sword and frowns deeply. Has someone touched her while she was unconscious?

And then it happens, the very last thing he refuses to see—an image resurfaces from the back of his mind, a nightmare. It was of Annette screaming at the dead of night, possibly getting molested by one of these filthy castle guards or Knights of Seiros. Her loud sobbing and torn-up clothing triggered him.

It was disgusting, and chilling to the bone.

He grips his fists, turning them white.

He needed to protect her.

Looking up, Felix catches her toss and turn in her sleep, leaving her mouth half-open to welcome a stream of drool.

Once more, he reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

He stares at her a little more and lets the silence drag on.

The day was almost ending.

Dusk will be coming shortly.

There was no way Felix was going to leave her there on her own. As strong as she may be on the battlefield, Annette was utterly defenseless and vulnerable when asleep. What's more, there was no telling if the hidden intentions the male knights could be doing if they had found her in such a state.

Felix quickly shakes the thought off, settling with his resolve.

He needed to get her out of here—bring her to a place where she can be safe, and others can keep a close eye on her.

Her dorm would have to do.

Felix gently slides his arms under her torso, scooping her up. For someone who looks so small and fragile to the touch, she sure weighs a ton.

Felix sneaks a glance at her and his cold expression thaws.

Up close, she was beautiful in every way.

Annette squirms in his touch, alarming him. He notices her mouth parting a little, and a stream of voiceless words escapes. He tries to listen in, but it was already too late. She went on to move her head a little to her right, buries her face deeper into his chest, and relaxes.

Felix blushes, frozen still.

Light snoring tickles his ears and he allows a smile to spread across his lips.

Leaning in, he takes a whiff of her orange head.

A flutter of butterflies dances inside his stomach.

It was faint but he could still smell it—apple blossoms, and strawberries.

It suits her perfectly.

“I’ve got you,” He says, and tightens his hold around her.

Off he goes, out into the campus grounds with a mission to give her sanctuary.

* * *

After an agonizing fifteen-minute walk—and dodging every passing classmate with their curious and suggestive looks—Felix finally made it, at long last, inside Annette’s dorm.

He kicks the door closed with the heel of his foot and quietly wanders inside. Steady and carefully, Felix sets her down on her bed, starting first by placing her head on the pillow.

Annette makes a disgruntled sound, but not too much as she was quick to adapt to the new change of the environment.

Felix sneaks another glance at her direction, eyes softening.

Good, she was still fast asleep.

Again, he reaches out to brush away a few strands of hair on her temple. A smile makes his way on his lips, wishing for this to last a little longer.

But he knew he couldn’t.

He needed to get out of here before she found out.

Felix drinks her in, memorizing every detail of her beautiful body—going from head to toe. Her orange curls, her sunshine face, her slightly wrinkled cream dress, her hourglass figure, and her heart-shaped face.

Here he was, so close to the person he was deeply in love with.

For all he knew, she might not share the same feeling. She might be pursuing someone else’s heart or have already been promised to someone else.

The thought of her being with another that wasn’t him was terrifying.

And Felix wouldn’t bring himself to want to face her again if it was indeed true—if her heart had already been given away.

As for himself, well…

Felix thought long and hard about it, but later, he shakes it off.

After Annette, there was nobody else in mind.

And it never will be.

For the woman in front of him was the only one he could ever feel so strongly for.

The one who stole his heart, and never gave it back.

And who made him her captive since day one.

Annette Fantine Dominic—his one and only.

If only he had the guts to tell her how he truly feels Time was running out for all of them. In a few days, the final war would begin. 

He might die in the frontlines and Annette might survive, long enough to tell the tale.

Or she might die, and Felix would go on to live as a guilty man, broken and never satisfied.

Anything could happen.

Win or lose, the odds may or may not be in their favor.

If this was to be their last, Felix needed to make it memorial.

But right now was not the time.

She needed to rest, and so does he.

Felix waits a little more, passing the time by simply staring at Annette who was adorably snuggling up with a pillow. He brings out his hand, and this time, tears off the leather brown glove he was wearing. He cracks a smile and lets his fingers lightly touch her rosy cheeks, the tip of her nose, and in-between her soft, pink lips.

He could feel her breathing and he tries hard to keep still.

Maybe it’s best to give her some space.

Felix rakes a hand through his hair, blushing furiously at what he had done. He rises in a hurry, and as he goes to the door, he hears it—his name.

Slowly, Felix turns around.

That’s strange. Annette was sound asleep.

He frowns deeply. Could he be imagining it?

Felix brushes it off, grabbing for the doorknob, and ready to go—

“…Felix,”

Felix freezes. Okay, he heard that one.

He turns again, mildly confused.

Annette was still knocked out. Felix narrows his eyes, leaning his back against the door frame and crossing his arms. He remains that way for a moment, waiting. And then he sees it—Annette moving slowly to her right, facing him with her eyes still closed. Her lips are parted, drooling away and blabbering to herself. It’s too low to properly hear and yet, one word manages to catch his attention.

His name.

“Felix…”

His name rings from her sugary-coated voice.

Felix blushes at this revelation.

There was no mistake of it. Annette—dear, sweet Annette was calling out to him in her sleep and quite possibly…could she be having a dream about him?

It was a call, a summon, a need.

Felix slowly approaches her, intrigued.

His name rolling off her tongue was magical and mystifying.

She was a siren, absolutely breathtaking and bewitching to the ears.

Felix was her fallen victim, utterly whipped by her euphonious incantations.

“Ngh…Felix,”

There it was again.

Tongue-tied and hypnotized, Felix goes to her.

Felix dares to take another step, slightly aroused.

His heart pounds harder.

He loves it, wishing to listen some more.

The more Annette says his name, the more he wishes to just take her and kiss her senseless.

And so, he sits close to the edge of her bed, eyes fixed on her. Her voice echoes throughout the room, so sweet and velvety as how he remembers it to be. For someone who despises sweets, Felix makes this an exception.

“Mhm…Felix…”

He props his head high, taking a look at her. His eyes widen.

Annette was sprawled out, eyebrows twitching and her chest rising up and down. She tosses again, facing his direction. The triple flaps of her cream dress are fluttered upright, her blue-laced underwear peeking out.

Felix burns redder. He covers his mouth quickly, looking the other way.

Since when did he turn into a certain philanderer?

Inviting himself inside a girl’s dormitory without her consent, staying longer, and ogling at a sight—so indecent and highly perverted, that he shouldn’t even be here.

This wasn’t like him at all.

And yet, something about this, he can’t help but feel tempted to…

“Felix…”

His breathing hitches. He leans in and delicately plucks out a few strands of hair from Annette's sweaty forehead.

“Felix…”

He catches her hands detaching themselves from the pillow and making their way over to her chest. Before he knew it, she was stripping herself of her dress—unbuttoning the first three buttons of her collar to unveil more cleavage, and of her freckled, fair skin.

Felix keeps silent, eyes shot wide open.

But he fails to catch her other one, her right hand sliding down…touching every inch of her curves—starting from her small breasts, her petite waist, and to her wide hips.

Annette knits her brows together, biting her lower lip as she ventures lower, and deeper into dangerous territory.

"Ngh!" She arches her back, gasping as her fingers find their way to her underwear. She rubs the blue cloth in circles, unmindful to the eyes of her spectator in the background.

“Oh, Felix!”

Felix swallows hard.

His piercing gaze, persistent and unnerving, as he looks on to her self-pleasuring.

Annette was dreaming of him…and touching herself.

Felix shakes his head, clicking his tongue harshly.

Damn it.

He feels the sweltering heat inside his pants, and it was eating him.

Felix glances at Annette, who moans his name. She spreads her legs out a little more, whimpering as she brings her other hand to grope her small left breast, squeezing it.

“Ngh…Felix, _please_,”

Felix drops to his knees, panting heavily.

This damn woman was tormenting him little by little.

He gulps for air, and then sneaks another glimpse at her.

How she manages to still look beautiful, even in a state of sweat and indecency, was astounding.

When Annette slips a finger inside her clit, she throws her head back. Her body writhes wildly on the bed, gasping like a fish out of water. Ecstasy took her, and so did her will power to control herself.

She begins to rock her hips, grinding her finger.

Felix stares in amazement. A trail of drool leaks from his bottom lip, and he wipes it away. He stands there, dumbfounded and in awe of her skills.

Annette inserts another finger, her moans rising to the extreme. Her eyes still tightly shut, she opens her mouth wider, drowning herself into more pleasure than ever before. Her moves were jerky, her body shuddering as her exposed skin gets kissed by the cold wisp of air from her window.

“Ugh! Faster, Felix!”

Everything was becoming a blur.

Felix was close to his limit. He needed to touch her. Now.

He shifts his sight over to where Annette was busy fingering herself.

Licking his lips, he makes his move.

* * *

Careful not to make a sound, Felix reaches his hand, placing them on top of her own.

When he feels her grow tense, he rubs his thumb gently to assure her. As he dives his hand deeper, past her pubic hair and into the warm entry of her private, he takes a long, deep breath. He looks to Annette, eyes softening. He tips his head to press his temple with her, and he too closes his eyes.

Enclosing her three fingers with one hand, he brings forth the other one to include another.

Felix throws his head back, gritting his teeth as Annette yelps aloud.

Goddess, she was so fucking warm and tight.

So wet and slippery.

An airy breath escapes his throat. The euphoric sensation crawls to his skin, overtaking him. He was finally inside of her and man, did she exceed his expectations. Inhaling a sharp breath, Felix shakes his head. He needs to keep it together.

“Felix…”

He hears her summon.

“I’m here,” He murmurs, nuzzling his cheeks with hers. He plants light butterfly kisses along the nape of her neck, and she shivers.

She tastes so sweet and delicious.

Then he felt it—her other hand wrapping around his wrist as if encouraging him, _inviting_ him to go on.

Felix looks at her, and he gets ready.

All the lewd fantasies he had of her, secretly masturbating indoors as he imagines what it would be like to taste her, feel her, be with her…

This was it, the real deal.

And it was everything he could ever ask for.

“Felix…”

He smiles inwardly. Well, here it goes. “I’m here,” He mouths, and slips his finger, along with her own, deeper into her forbidden fruit.

Annette shook intensely, bucking her knees as she goes haywire. Her stream of moans pitches higher, and his touch electrifying every sensitive nerve in her body.

She loves it.

“More, please!”

Felix obeys her command, slipping their fingers in and out of her clit inconsistent tempo. Stronger, faster…more, and more…their pleasure heightening tenfold.

Annette moans, begging for more.

Felix shivers, refusing to appease his throbbing erection as he does his best to quench Annette’s growing demand for his touch.

He sweats, pants, and collects his breath.

“Annette…” He throws his head back as a flood of ecstasy begins to consume him whole. “Annette…”

As if she heard him, Annette calls more of his name. “Ahh, Felix…”

Strangely, it fits.

The pair were two minds becoming one.

She hungers and he fulfills.

He listens and she withers.

Again and again, the scorching energy intensifies.

Panting restlessly, Felix swallows and decides to quicken his pace. He digs his fingers deeper into her hole.

Annette moans louder and prouder. Her skin was sweaty and hair tousled and unkempt. Even in disarray, she manages to look ravishing…and appetizing. Truly, her body was a wonderland, uncharted and ready to be explored by his hands.

She bounces wildly, flashing her matching blue-laced bra in his direction.

Felix spots this, turning into a deeper shade of red.

His right-hand twitches, yearning…longing, _wanting_ to feel her.

To taste her.

“More, please!”

He gives in. Slowly, Felix lowers his chin, his hot breath tickling the nape of her neck. Tucking the orange wisps to the side, he goes on to nibble the shell of her ear.

Eyes still closed, Annette grips firmly of her white bedsheets.

Felix pumps their fingers in and out, in a rhythmic motion, and kisses her tenderly.

Annette reacts, gripping tighter of his wrist and implying more friction.

“Faster, please!”

Felix doubles his speed, hitting exactly where she wants.

Annette throws her head on the pillow, moaning deliciously.

“Yes, right there!”

Damn it, her walls are getting tighter.

She’s so close to—

“Yes, there!”

Fuck it.

He’d do it.

Anything for her.

“Felix…FELIX!”

He felt it—her walls trembling, and the moment he thrusts his finger at her sensitive spot, she breaks. A wave of excitement electrifies her, drowning her. She arches her back, crying at the top of her lungs. Felix grunts, perspiring and biting hard of his lower lip as he witnesses Annette's climax in front of him.

He swallows, his face on fire.

He catches her settling back on the mattress, her shivering body slowly easing. Her short, rapid breathing was returning to its normal state.

Felix sighs in relief, and slowly pulls his hand, along with hers, from inside of her.

He marvels at the sight of their fingers coated in a string of her fluid. He blushes furiously, feeling a surge of warmth down below. Suddenly, he finds himself to be quite hungry.

He takes her hand first, diligently sucking and consuming the remaining cum…rolling and flicking his tongue in-between the spaces of her fingers.

His ears catch her soft moaning, and Felix musters a grin.

When he finishes, he slides off the edge of the bed, though not before covering her with a large blanket. Wiping the sweat on the forehead with the back of his hand, Felix tends to his issues.

He unfastens his zipper in a hurry, breathing hard and heavy. Still, in heat, he snatches his throbbing shaft almost too violently. He uses the hand still filled with Annette’s cum, and not much else to lose, dives into pure bliss.

“Ngh…”

Felix bites his bottom lip harder, not to utter a moan or a sound that might wake her.

He dutifully does this quickly and skillfully, not wasting much time as he tries to relieve himself of the building stress. After this, he could finally head out and quite possibly return to his quarters to reflect on what he had done.

He was close…so close to finishing—

“Felix…”

He stops.

Fear kicks in and slowly, he turns around.

Annette was still asleep.

Felix sighs, and fixes his attention back on the matter at hand.

“Felix…”

He peers over his shoulder, and catches her squirming, with eyes still closed. She moves her mouth, then closes it as she takes a breath in. “Mhmm…Felix,”

She’s calling out to him again.

Could it be another dream?

Tears begin leaking from the corner of her eyes, and Felix stops everything. Luckily, his erection had died down. Securing his zipper, Felix moves quickly to console her. He inspects her face carefully, but nothing seems to be suspicious.

“Felix…” She says his name again, sounding sorrowful. She furrows her eyebrows. Oh no, was she having a nightmare? “Please, don't…”

Felix waits patiently for her to finish, capturing her right hand with his left. She was trembling so much.

“Don't leave...” She goes on, her voice cracking. “I love you…”

.

.

.

Did he hear that correctly?

Annette…loves him?

Felix waits a little more, wishing to hear her say it again. And when she utters the same sentence again, and again like a broken record, it puts a large smile on his face.

All his worries and frustration of not being able to be with her…the thoughts of her already being claimed by another…they were gone in an instant.

Even in her sleep, she thinks of him.

How long did she have these feelings?

Felix lowers his gaze, eyes softening. He gently wipes off the stream of tears leaking down on her rosy cheeks and stares at her intently.

“I love you too,” He mouths, squeezing her hand. "**Je t’aime de toute mon âme,"**

Not now at least.

He thinks it over, his eyes drifting to her slightly parted lips.

Felix gently leans and claims her lips.

He could feel her joining in, light and hesitate as his. Faint, but it was still there.

Felix smiles through their exchange, sweet and salty from the leftover cum, and never wanting the moment to ever end.

Until she wakes up, this would have to do.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter, 'je suis fou de toi' means ' I am crazy about you'
> 
> Felix's confession, 'Je t’aime de toute mon âme' means 'I love you with all of my soul'
> 
> Ahh, so romantic~
> 
> Now, I would like to deeply apologize for not being able to update this fanfic since...wow, September! 
> 
> I've been writing draft after draft, trying to perfect the next chapter that would most befit Avec Toi! But in the end...who would've thought that this whole time, my answer was all thanks to a dream I had two nights ago? 
> 
> Well, it seems to me like that's probably how I write my stories now. 
> 
> Dreams being dreams, and turning them into reality -- and being that Avec Toi is one of my favorite fanfics to write, I believe this is a fitting way to move forth with their mutual pinings (body language is key in this fanfic, so I made sure to emphasize on it strongly).
> 
> Felix knows now, but what will it take for Annette to know the truth of his feelings??
> 
> I aim to complete this fanfic for good -- as what my bucket list for 2020 stands.
> 
> Please let me know your thoughts!
> 
> If you like, come follow me at Twitter, @Kroissant4 or/and join our awesome felannie discord server, https://discord.gg/tdYCdq9
> 
> See you later, folks!


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